


naturally

by pageleaf



Category: Original Work
Genre: First Time, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Urban Fantasy, fabulism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/pseuds/pageleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy is pining for his next-door neighbor, said next-door neighbor is a bit repressed, and the weather in Michigan is really, really fucked up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	naturally

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [По законам природы](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027389) by [Schwesterchen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schwesterchen/pseuds/Schwesterchen)



> Fair warning, notes at the end contain spoilers.
> 
> ETA 2017: changed the tags to replace magical realism, which i have since learned has a specific latin american cultural context that doesn't apply to this fic or to me as an author, with "fabulism" instead!

Andy hates Michigan.

Well, okay, no, he loves Michigan, it just confuses the fuck out of him sometimes—only a few weeks ago it was sunny and almost too warm, and now there’s a ubiquitous damp that soaks into his bones, and worse, his socks.

You’d think Andy would be used to it, having lived here his whole life, but he thinks it’s pretty impossible to get used to Michigan. The minute you think you are, Mother Nature cackles in your face and conjures up a tornado or something, just to fuck with you.

Okay, maybe Andy does hate Michigan, a little.

Or a lot, he amends as it starts to rain.

***

“Good morning, Andy,” Daniel says, smiling at him from the sidewalk.

“Mornin’, Daniel,” Andy grins back, picking up a package from his porch.

“Interesting weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Daniel asks.

Andy shoots a narrow-eyed glare at the dreary grey sky, the sun shining dimly through the cloud cover. “You could say that,” he allows.

“I think it’ll warm up, soon enough,” Daniel says.

Andy looks at him dubiously. “If you say so.”

***

Three days later, it’s seventy degrees outside.

“All right,” Andy says, because it’s not the first time this has happened, “what’s your secret?”

“I’ve just lived here a lot longer than you have,” Daniel says. “I know the patterns.”

“Uh-huh,” Andy says. “You just moved here three years ago.”

“I moved back here,” Daniel corrects. “You forget I lived here when I was younger.”

Andy smiles. “I didn’t forget.”

Daniel just smiles back and says, “Have a nice day, Andy,” turning to leave.

“What, that’s it?” Andy calls after him, but Daniel just waves as he cuts across Andy’s lawn, disappearing into his house next door.

Andy stares after him for longer than he’d like to admit.

***

“It’s the middle of April,” Andy whines, “so why does it feel like November?”

“April showers bring May flowers,” Daniel says, sing-song. “Besides, I like rain. It’s clean.”

Andy frowns at him. “You like all weather.”

Daniel grins. “That I do.”

“Nobody likes all weather,” Andy says. “Especially not in Michigan.” It’s true: nobody in Michigan likes Michigan weather.

“I do,” Daniel says. “I’m indiscriminate.”

Andy rolls his eyes. “You are so weird, dude, don’t even talk to me.”

***

The weather gets even more fucked up in the following month. Rather than warming up for good as it’s _supposed_ to in May (as it was _supposed_ to do in April, jesus), some days are stupidly hot and others are suddenly stormy and nothing makes sense.

Even for Michigan, this is awful.

“Strange weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Daniel says, a weird note in his voice. He sounds...almost rueful, as if he were expecting something different.

“Understatement of the goddamn century, man,” Andy sighs.

Daniel twitches, almost a wince. Andy can sympathize—he’s not feeling too hot, either, with the storms, especially.

***

It’s Friday, and Andy has a date on Saturday, with a nice guy named Cory he met at a coffee shop. He’s pretty excited, he’s gotta admit. Even better, the sun is shining, and it looks like the night’s going to be clear, too.

Still, he can’t help but feel a pang of regret when Daniel asks him to come over for dinner and he has to turn him down.

“Sorry, Daniel,” Andy says. “I wish I could, but I’ve got a date.”

“Oh,” Daniel says softly.

“Rain check?” Andy offers hopefully.

“Yes, of course,” Daniel says, smiling, but there’s something unreadable on his face.

***

It ends up storming that night, fiercely. Andy goes out for his date with Cory anyway, because he’s a contrary bastard like that.

***

The next day, Andy doesn’t see Daniel, and it rains—the pathetic, half-hearted rain that happens on the really horrible days.

The day after that, Daniel appears outside to put mulch on his flowerbeds, and Andy waves cheerfully at him, but Daniel just gives him a tight smile and a tiny wave, turning his back. Andy’s smile freezes, and he goes back inside with a coldness in his chest that’s not because of the weather.

Andy doesn’t go on a second date with Cory.

***

After a week of nothing, Andy gives in and rings Daniel’s doorbell. Daniel opens the door almost immediately, just a crack, hair in disarray and dark circles under his eyes.

“You look like shit,” Andy says unsympathetically, pushing his way in. Daniel steps aside, holding the door open wider.

“So do you,” Daniel says tightly, practically moody compared to his normal gentlemanly self. Andy doesn’t flinch.

“You’re an asshole,” he informs Daniel. “Sit down and let me make you some tea.”

Andy is very, very good at making tea, and has the added benefit of knowing that Daniel prefers herbal teas to anything else, no sugar, thanks. Daniel just broods at the kitchen table, sipping sullenly at the tea when it’s done.

“I’m fine,” he says preemptively.

“Uh-huh,” Andy says. “Sure. Drink your tea.”

***

It’s edging into June, now, and the weather is starting to get better, leaves having already sprouted but only now developing, buds forming a month too late.

Andy breathes a sigh of relief when he finds a new shoot on his rose plant, green and alive. It seems as though everything is starting to be normal.

Daniel’s gotten better from whatever was wrong with him, and his personality shows the improvement. They have dinner every Sunday now. Andy’s pretty sure Daniel’s lonely, since his mom just died and everything. And yes, sometimes Andy gets lonely, too. His parents have been gone for a good four years now, and his older sister moved to Cincinnati a year ago with her boyfriend, and the old family house is empty without them.

Andy guesses he’s lucky, since most of his college friends are still in their apartments, but really he just thinks this house, though fairly small, is too big for him.

Daniel makes it better. Daniel makes a lot of things better, actually.

***

“Hey,” Andy says as he opens the door.

“Hey,” Daniel says, smiling.

“I ordered pizza,” Andy says, heading into the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Daniel says, slipping off his shoes and coat and padding into the kitchen in his stupid argyle socks. They match his sweater. Andy doesn’t find it endearing one bit.

“There are cold water bottles in the fridge,” Andy says.

They sit down at the small table in the kitchen to eat. Daniel keeps flickering glances at him in a way he probably thinks is surreptitious. Andy only notices because he’s looking back in a way he knows isn’t.

Finally, he sets down his fork and says, “What?”

Daniel startles. “Sorry?”

“You’re staring at me,” Andy says. “What, do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re fine,” Daniel mumbles. “I’m just—distracted.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Andy says, grinning. “Relax, it’s fine. Just eat your pizza.”

***

Andy remembers when Daniel’s mom died, three years ago. Diana was the smartest lady Andy ever knew, and after Andy’s own parents died, she would bring him soup every Wednesday, as long as he took her roses on Tuesday. Andy cried when she died, like he hadn’t cried for a long, long time.

Daniel came up for the funeral, and Andy remembers the grief on his face, mixed with something that looked a lot like determination. Andy never really got it, but he wasn’t going to pry.

Besides, he was glad enough when Daniel moved back home right after. He hated the thought of the house being sold, of getting a new set of neighbors. Call him sentimental, but he didn’t want Diana to be forgotten.

He remembers how Daniel seemed back then, distant and polite and a little brittle, like he was made of ice. He was almost unrecognizable from the boy Andy knew when he was eight. Andy likes him how he is now, more like when they were kids.

Well, kind of like when they were kids. With the added benefit of Andy being a little love with him.

***

“Drew!”

“Hi, Mel,” Andy says, grinning. “How the hell are you?”

“Great,” Melanie says, and he can hear an answering grin in her voice. Actually, he’s surprised he can hear her voice at all, since usually when she calls he can hear the sounds of traffic blaring in the background. It’s actually quiet on her end.

Andy frowns. “ _Where_ the hell are you?”

“Um,” Mel says. “In our room, with the door shut. I wanted some quiet to call you.”

Andy’s frown deepens. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” Mel says. “Um. Actually, I have some good news.”

Andy starts to grin. “Melanie, either this is the part where you tell me you’re expecting—”

“No!” Mel says. “Or, um, at least. Not...yet? We’re—Harry and I—we’re getting married.”

“Oh my god,” Andy says. He’d been expecting it, of course, but _still_.

“Andy?” Mel says, sounding anxious. “Is that—okay? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, because either way we’re going to—I mean, of course it _matters_ , but—you know what I—”

“Shut up,” Andy says. “Seriously, be quiet for a second, I need to take this in.”

“That’s good, then?” Melanie asks.

“Good? It’s fucking _fantastic_ , Mel, oh my god, congratulations.” Andy’s grin keeps getting wider and wider, and he really, really fucking loves his sister. “How’s Harry?”

“He’s great, he’s fine,” Melanie says, and she’s finally starting to sound giddy. “Drew, Drew, oh my god, I’m getting _married_ , Drew!”

“Baby’s growing up,” Andy teases.

“Fuck you,” Melanie says agreeably, “I’m two years older than you are.”

“Only two years,” Andy whines.

“Yep,” Melanie says. “That means in two years it’s your turn.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Andy says.

“Yes it does. So find a girl. Or a guy. Whatever you want, Drew.”

“Thanks, Mel,” Andy says dryly.

“Speaking of what you want,” Mel says slyly. “How’s Danny?”

“Shut up,” Andy mutters. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is that good or bad,” Mel says, “I can’t tell.”

“Horrible,” Andy says. “It sucks. I’m pining, Mel. _Pining_.”

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware,” Mel says. “Well, good luck with that, I’m going to leave you to wallow in your own unresolved sexual tension, because I have to go _plan my wedding_ , Drew!”

Andy laughs. “Congrats again, Mel. Go back to your fiancé.”

“Will do,” Mel says. “Love you, bye!”

“Love you,” Andy says, and hangs up. He stares at the phone for a second before dialing Daniel’s number.

“Hi, Daniel,” Andy says casually. “My sister’s getting married, I really need a drink, and I’d like you to be here to share one with me, please. Okay, see you in a bit.”

***

Daniel ends up bringing a bottle of champagne that he just had “lying around, going to waste.” Andy doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t question it either, since champagne is better than the cheap bottle of wine that was all he had. Besides, he’s celebrating.

He’s still celebrating an hour later, halfway through the bottle. Andy’s pretty sure Daniel has been drinking, too, because why wouldn’t he be, but he’s still irritatingly sober. While Andy...isn’t.

“My sister’s getting married,” Andy says, leaning heavily into Daniel’s side.

“You’ve mentioned that,” Daniel says amusedly. “A few times, actually. Do remember to congratulate them for me, won’t you?”

“Sure,” Andy says. “When I’m sober.” He closes his eyes. “Sleep now, though,” he mumbles, burrowing farther into Daniel. He loses his balance, though, tipping over into Daniel’s lap. He blinks up at the ceiling, then at Daniel’s face when it comes into focus. “She says I’m next.”

“Does she?” Daniel asks.

“Yep,” Andy says. “She told me to find a girl. Or a guy.” He feels Daniel stiffen slightly. “Whatever I want, she said.”

“Whatever you want,” Daniel repeats, softly.

“Mm,” Andy says, closing his eyes and turning his face into Daniel’s stomach. “‘Night.”

“Goodnight, Andy,” Daniel says.

***

In the morning, Andy wakes up cold and alone and somehow in his bed. He rolls over with a pained noise, head throbbing, and spies the aspirin and water on his bedside table through squinted eyes.

“Ugh, Daniel,” he says, closing his eyes against a rush of painful affection.

“You called?” a voice comes from the doorway.

Andy scowls, groans, and rolls back over onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow.

“You’ll suffocate like that,” Daniel says, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “Take your aspirin and you’ll feel better.”

“Why does it smell like food,” Andy asks wearily, sitting up and taking the pill and drinking the water.

“Why do you think?” Daniel says, getting up. “Come get some pancakes,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads back to the kitchen.

Andy collapses back into the pillows. He is so fucked.

***

It’s really, really sunny for the next few days. The roses all burst into bloom, two families of birds build nests in Andy’s tree, and Daniel keeps coming around and smiling like a whole other sun.

The worst part is that Andy loves every minute of it.

That is, until Cory calls him and asks him out on another date.

***

Daniel goes blank when he tells him he has to cancel dinner Friday night. Literally, he goes completely blank, eyes flattening and face paling. It’s terrifying.

“Or,” Andy says, hesitantly, “I could always cancel?” He wants to, _god_ he wants to, he would much rather be having a friendly dinner with Daniel than a date with anybody else, but he really, really needs to get over this shit. It’s hard, though, especially when Daniel looks at him like that. The sun goes behind a cloud and the light dims.

“No,” Daniel says. “It’s all right, you can go on your _date_ ,” and “date” comes out a little vicious. Daniel winces, like he couldn’t help it, and is already regretting his lapse in control.

“Daniel,” Andy says, eyes wide.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Daniel says. “I—go, please, enjoy yourself, I’m sorry, I—”

“Daniel, you’ve got to throw me a bone here,” Andy says, voice starting to waver. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing, nothing’s going on,” Daniel says.

“I don’t believe you,” Andy says, and pushes forward into Daniel’s personal space. His face is red, he can feel it, flushed with anger and something else, something anticipatory. “Tell me.”

“Nothing,” Daniel says, and somewhere in the distance thunder rumbles. But all he notices is that Daniel’s eyes are starting to sharpen, that two spots of color have appeared high on his cheekbones.

“Bullshit,” Andy says, and presses Daniel into the wall. It’s not easy, when Daniel’s got a good five inches on him, but he manages. Daniel blinks at him, mouth falling open. “This is me, calling your bluff.”

“Andy—” Daniel says before Andy cuts him off with his mouth.

It’s sharp and painful and clumsy and lasts about five full seconds before Daniel shoves him off, breathing hard. It’s the best kiss of his life. Somewhere, his brain is asking him very calmly what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, but it’s drowned out by the sound of his breathing and his heart beating and the wind outside howling.

“Andy, what the hell are you doing,” Daniel says roughly, hands gripping Andy’s shoulders tightly, pushing him away.

“What does it look like I’m doing, asshole,” Andy says, pressing closer, but Daniel just holds him farther back.

“You can’t do that, Andy,” Daniel says desperately, but it’s too late, Andy’s seen the want on his face.

“Why not,” Andy says. “I know you want me, and I love you, so what’s the problem here?”

“What?” Daniel asks, his brow furrowing.

Andy sighs. “Which part are you hung up on, Daniel?”

Daniel shakes his head, the resistance on his face cracking open, something hopeful shining through. In the back of his mind Andy notices that the wind has died down. “You—you love me?”

Andy shifts, but holds Daniel’s gaze. “Is that going to be a problem?” he asks defensively.

Daniel laughs, sharp and joyful, and pulls him in, kissing him almost fiercely. Andy freezes, inhaling sharply, then goes up on his toes and kisses back as hard as he can.

A shaft of light breaks through the clouds, then another, and another, and another, until the room is full of sunlight, so bright it hurts Andy’s eyes. He gasps into Daniel’s mouth, pulling back. “What the fuck?” he asks. “Where did that sun come from?”

Daniel stares back at him, the joy fading from his face to be replaced with something that looks horribly like fear.

“Daniel,” Andy says, voice low. “What the hell is going on?”

***

“You’re fucking with me,” Andy says flatly, two hours later. It’s about the tenth time he’s said it.

“No,” Daniel says, perfectly earnest, also for the tenth time. “I would never.” The problem is that he really, really wouldn’t.

“So you’re, what, Mother Nature, or some shit?” Andy snaps. “I don’t believe you.”

Daniel smiles sadly. “I don’t expect you to.”

“Oh, stop martyring yourself,” Andy says, rolling his eyes. “If you want so badly for me to believe you, then prove it.”

“What?” Daniel asks blankly.

“Show me,” Andy hisses.

Daniel frowns. “I don’t know, Andy,” he says, “I mean, I can control the weather, but that doesn’t mean that I should.”

“ _Show_ me,” Andy repeats insistently.

Daniel huffs. “Fine,” he says, holding out his fist. He opens it slowly, and the buds on Andy’s plants all burst into bloom. Daniel makes a motion like a conductor bringing his orchestra to the close of a piece. The flowers seem to go back in time, becoming immature buds yet again.

Andy lets out a shaky breath. “Fuck,” he says. “ _Fuck_.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Daniel says.

“Fuck that,” Andy says breathlessly. “Show me _more_.”

Daniel grins at him, helpless.

***

“So, how did all this Mother Nature business come about?” Andy asks later, lying on the couch with his head in Daniel’s lap.

Daniel hums, running his hand through Andy’s hair. “It’s a family thing. After my mom died, it kind of passed on to me, I guess.”

“What happens if you don’t have kids?” Andy asks, frowning.

Andy’s not looking at Daniel, but he feels him shrug. “My brother has kids. It’ll probably just go to them.”

“So I wouldn’t be responsible for you, like, not furthering the Mother Nature bloodline or something?” Andy asks. He feels kind of offended when Daniel starts laughing. This is a serious concern.

“No, Andy,” Daniel says. “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s like—think of it like heirs. I am the current heir, but if for some reason I became unfit, the power would pass down to the next person in line.”

“Like royalty,” Andy says. “So you’re a princess. Princess Mother Nature.”

“Would you stop with the “Mother Nature” stuff?” Daniel says exasperatedly.

“Never,” Andy says mock-seriously.

***

“Okay,” Mel says, “so we’re getting married in December, and you have to be there to walk me down the aisle, and bring Danny as your date.”

“I’m sorry,” Andy says. “I don’t think I quite caught that last part.”

“Oh, don’t even pretend you’re not sleeping with him,” Melanie says. “Besides, I told you, you’re next. You both need to be there for maximum bouquet-catching success.”

“That’s not a thing,” Andy says.

“Sure it is,” Melanie says. “Tell your boyfriend I say hi.” She hangs up before Andy can retort, and Andy sighs.

“Don’t make any plans for December,” he says, turning to Daniel. “You’re going as my date to Mel’s wedding.”

Daniel smiles softly. “Of course. It’ll be nice to see Melanie again.”

Outside, the sun is shining, but there is a rainstorm predicted for tomorrow. It’s July, and the weather is exactly as fucked up as it’s supposed to be.

Andy kind of likes Michigan, as long as Daniel’s here.

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic basically started because of that one period in late-April to mid-May when the weather goes back and forth. I always called that "Mother Nature having mood swings". So then I thought, "What if it actually were Mother Nature having mood swings?" And then I thought:
> 
> "What if Mother Nature were a _guy_?"
> 
> And, yeah, that's pretty much it.


End file.
